Negotiations
by tsusami
Summary: Grell makes a deal with the devil. SebaGrell


Negotiations

Sebastian's footsteps slowed near the servant's quarters. He reached for his pocket watch, narrowed his eyes and held the silver instrument to his ear to listen for the click of small gears turning. It was hours before dawn and yet something stirred behind the door. Shifting the candle to his other hand, Sebastian held his key ring and used his thumbs to flick to the right one. He turned the lock cautiously and was certain to watch out for the squeaky hinge as he pressed the wooden door open.

Even without the dim candlelight, he could make out the white of Finnian's nightgown, his limbs sprawled out on top of the covers. Bard snored softly beside him, face down on a drool stained pillow. Tanaka slept peacefully despite a rusty looking scythe being driven into his body over and over again.

"Dammit, just die already," a voice grated in hushed tones. The candlelight cast a yellow glow on red hair trailing over a familiar bloody jacket. Grell Sutcliff hovered over Tanaka's sleeping form trying very desperately to sever his spirit from the physical world. "This stupid piece of junk." Sharply pointed teeth sneered at the more traditional reaper implement.

"Eh hem," Sebastian held a gloved hand up to his mouth. "You'll find that method rather ineffectual," he said.

Grell's sneer transformed into a smile instantaneously. He ran a black gloved hand through his red hair and batted fake eyelashes over green eyes. "Sebas-chan," he purred, "imagine seeing you here."

"I am the butler of Phantomhive. I am wherever my master requires me to be. May I inquire as to what brings you, dear uninvited guest, at this most importune hour?" Sebastian eyed the weapon carefully. The last battle had stung and he was not in any hurry to feel a reaper's bite again.

Grell hopped off the bed, shrugging one sleeve of his red jacket back onto his shoulder. He ran one finger along the scythe's blade.

"Why my Sebas-chan, I came to see you of course. We parted so abruptly last time." Grell slinked forward with a liquid sort of grace. His teeth gleamed in the flickering candlelight emanating from the small flame cradled in Sebastian's hand. "Verona's law cannot keep us apart."

Sebastian jumped back even as the blade aimed for his neck. "I see thou is trying to murder my kinsman," Sebastian demured. Grell straightened out and huffed.

"This one belongs to me, you naughty boy." He wagged a finger, winking one eye.

The candle blinked out with the next swing of the scythe. Sebastian moved away from the servants' beds lest they be knicked carelessly. He set the candlestick down carefully on a side table.

"Ah, but he doesn't," Sebastian smiled, "for so long as my master desires his presence, it is my job to ensure that he stays." Sebastian leaned backwards even as the blade threatened to nick the tender flesh below his ear. A few strands of hair slipped to the floor. He paused, licking one side of his teeth. "But perhaps we may reach some sort of agreement." Grell held the blade firm. One slender brow lifted and Sebastian became certain he had the shinigami's attention. "You're a reasonable man," Sebastian said, running the tip of his finger over the blade. He pushed it away to a more comfortable distance. "There must be something else you... desire?"

-

William T. Spears paused outside the Phantomhive Manor. He suspected that sending Sutcliffe back to the demon infested house was a mistake. Grell's unacceptable tardiness had reinforced this opinion and when he discovered the target still alive William was simply annoyed.

He attempted to reap said spirit himself and was frustrated to discover that maybe the case was not so simple as it first appeared.

William wandered the dark halls of the mansion until he reached the kitchen. A single candelabra illuminated a mixing bowl resting on the cutting board. Various ingredients had been left on the counters, strewn in uncharacteristically haphazard ways. Whatever the demon had been concocting at this hour had been abandoned.

A dim light leaked beneath the pantry door. William cleared his throat, knocked three times and waited while the shuffled noises of scrambling bodies ceased. The door creaked open and William was greeted with a familiar grin. The demon's hair was unusually mussed, his shirt gone and his pants indecently low.

"May I speak to my subordinate?" William pushed up his glasses with one finger. The demon nodded, an amused twinkle in his eye as he disappeared. Grell's flushed face reappeared, one gloved hand pressing a sheet against his bare chest.

"William," Grell cooed, "Have you come to join us?" William averted his eyes and cleared his throat once more. He twisted Grell's ear with the other hand and dragged him out of the pantry. Grell squealed and squirmed, trying to bat away his hand.

"Need I remind you that you were sent here to do a job? I did not think you foolish enough to risk displeasing the disciplinary committee so quickly. Consorting with demons is a violation of code one four eight seven under article three of the code of conduct."

The demon slithered up behind Grell and whisked him away from William's grasp. Grell snuggled up to him, curling into the demon's embrace.

"I assure you there is no consorting of any kind. This is a simple matter of negotiation. One that you are presently disrupting. You may tell your superiors that Tanaka is not to be harmed. Mr. Sutcliffe and I have agreed upon that."

William tightened his grip on his scythe. If he struck now Grell would be too distracted to interfere. William quickly calculated how he might salvage the situation, but then the demon's words sank in.

William tried not to lose his composure as Grell turned in the demon's arms and pressed small kisses to the cream colored chest. It was all an illusion of course. Demons were remarkable at creating glamors to please the eye. Beneath the beautiful flesh was a demon, a grotesque being that could shape all its ugliness into charm.

"Won't you join us?" the demon smiled amiably. William was struck with the memory of such a smile calling to him from the dark. Grell pressed a kiss just under the demon's jaw and William tried to suppress a shiver. He tried to ignore the memory of soft touches rising to the surface.

He turned away, straightened his glasses with one trembling hand and squared his shoulders before walking away.

"There will be consequences," he warned. Grell's pleasured sigh rose to answer him.

William placed a red mark next to Tanaka's name in his black book. He paused at the wet sounds of mouths and flesh colliding. He rubbed his fingers together, resisting the urge to turn to the early pages, to a single red mark now faded with time.

Not even he could undo a deal with the devil.


End file.
